Happiness and Him
by LoveNCreativity
Summary: Snoopy maids, strict parents and photography defines Rory's life, while the principal's office, gambling addicts and writing describes Logan's. When they meet at a Youth Support Group after her drunken misdeed, their seemingly opposite worlds collide. He lives for words. She lives for pictures. Together, they paint a love - senseless and fierce.
1. Chapter 1

**_One_**

_First loves are slits to your vein, leaving you to bleed and drain hollow. It stands over your body, laughing "I told you so". But, wait. You were too foolish to have heard its warning, too mesmerized by its color and beauty. Too freaking in love._

_I could be wise and wish there weren't such thing as a first. That I could bypass the rush of the first look he gave me, the first time his lips touched mine, the first time… Every time. That I could jump right into that safe love, like warm and fuzzy toe socks on a winter day. The coming home to your husband after a long day, picking up your kids from school, family picnics at the park._

_But, I wouldn't._

_I'd rather bleed dry and cling onto my naivety. Stupidity, really. Because if I did wish that, it would mean erasing him completely, and to erase him would erase my happiness. Happiness and him, though both fleeting, were the best parts of my life._

❤ Happiness and Him ❤

"Tristan!" Rory gripped the headrest of the driver's seat, leaning from the back of the car to see the speedometer. "You're going…" she hiccupped and giggled, "eighty-five miles per hour." That was ten freaking miles above the speed limit, or was it fifteen? Her face scrunched and her eyes dimmed as she tried to do the math in her intoxicated state. The end result was only a second hiccup escaping her throat.

At the sound, Tristan gave a hearty laugh, throwing his head back. "Chill out, this highway's fucking dead. Besides, I've never gotten busted." His hand left the steering wheel, slapping the girl passed out in the passenger seat on the arm.

A burp came out the girl's mouth. She shifted and grumbled "shut up, jerk" before rolling her head back, her mouth hanging open in the most unattractive way.

"See, Chelsea agrees." He smirked as the car increased speed, throwing Rory against her seat.

"I'm gonna be sick…" She bent over, clenching her head in her hands. Her own breath of gin and tonic sent repulsive scents into her nostrils while the car swayed from side to side, smashing her brain against her skull. _Drinking_ _sucks_, the few sober parts of her brain rightfully complained.

"We're almost back," he coaxed, "Man, that party was ridiculous."

A groan mixed with chuckles was her response. "I swear... I'm _never_ drinking again." She tucked a brown strand of hair behind her ear and stared at the floor, willing it to stop spinning.

"You say that every time." He caught Rory's eyes in the rear view mirror just before his widened. "_Shit!_"

"What?!" Her heart immediately started pounding at Tristan's paling face. Before she could think of the possibilities, the worst sound pierced through the air. _Oh, crap._

Blaring sirens ignited, popping her eardrums one at a time, while flashes of red and blue highlighted the night sky, engulfing them in a bubble. It was now impossible to escape.

"Fuck," Tristan breathed from the seat before her, his voice trembling faintly, "_Fuck_."

Panicked, Rory twisted to see the cop car behind them, its headlight trailing close. "Oh my god… _Pull over!_"

Another curse was the only response and, to her horror, the car flew past blurs of shadows, unrelenting in its track.

_What is he doing?! _"_Tristan!_" she screamed over the sirens, shoving him in the shoulder. HARD.

"Shut up!" he yelled while the car jerked to the right.

Rory's body slammed sharply against the seat belt strap, its edge burning into her skin. A loud screech the sound of a thousand dying cats came to her ears, and her body flung forward, held back by the intense burn against her arm and shoulder blade. Eventually, after an earful of expletives were launched from the driver's seat, the car came to a full stop. Her back hit the seat, and a gasp was forced past her lungs. The world was spinning in an endless blue and red._ Oh dear god, am I still alive?_

With her heart thumping in her ears, Rory slumped in the seat and shut her eyes to squeeze out the streaks of colors blinding her. If she was nauseous before, now she was definitely going to puke, in front of the freaking police, nevertheless.

_Crap, crap, crap. My mom's seriously gonna kill me._

❤ Happiness and Him ❤

After minutes of silence, sitting and waiting, the police officer came to Tristan's rolled down window.

"Do you have any weapons in the car?" the thick voice demanded.

"No," Tristan said, trying hard to minimize his breathing. _Shit, Dad's going to kill me._

"I need your driver's license, registration and insurance."

He passed the paperwork he pulled out earlier over the window, gripping onto the sheets tightly so his hand didn't tremble.

Staring straight, he waited. He'd heard from numerous friends what it was like being pulled over, but he just never prepared for it to happen to him, and now that it has, he didn't know what the hell to do.

"I need to see you."

A flashlight beam hit his face, causing him to jerk. Forcing his head to turn, he looked at the officer. The guy was middle aged with a scruffy beard over his double chin. If it wasn't for his uniform, Tristan wouldn't give a damn about his commands.

Examining him for a few seconds with daggers in his eyes, the officer steered the flashlight onto Chelsea, who was a lump of flesh with her head against the window and long hair covering her face. When the light moved onto Rory, Tristan saw her blue widened eyes as she sat frozen. At least he looked calmer than her, or so he hoped.

"Have you been drinking?"

At the question, sweat broke out on Tristan's neck. Shifting his eyes, he replied, "I had a drink a couple hours ago." _Make that two or three, not including the body shots._

"Sir, I'm going to need you to use the Breathalyzer."

❤ Happiness and Him ❤

"Thanks, Dad," Rory mumbled in the passenger seat as the car pulled over by the sidewalk.

"It's fine." Her father patted her on the shoulder. "Give me a call when you're done."

"Okay."

She couldn't look him in the eyes and, instead, observed the teal colored building with chipped paint and moss eaten walls through the car window. Greyview High, situated in one of the less than exceptional neighborhoods in Hartford, Connecticut, was where she would be spending forty hours of her life doing community service, including taking part in the Youth Peers Support Group, "Let's Talk!" Euphemistically described on the website, it was a friendly, open platform for youngsters to seek advice from their peers and learn to self-improve. Realistically, it was a containment of teenage idiots who were a disgrace and trouble to society.

Yup, she, an honor student from Chilton, one of the top private schools in Connecticut, was now one of them - all thanks to alcohol and Tristan's lunatic driving. At least she got it easy compared to him, she reminded herself. The poor guy was stuck with community service for practically the rest of his youth, not to mention his one year license suspension.

Opening the door and stepping out, she turned to see her father, Christopher Hayden, the top-level executive at her grandfather's insurance company. He was hunched over the steering wheel and watching her, his usual shirt and tie wrinkled at the collar. Seeing the concern on his face, guilt washed over her. Behind the stern front he put up in front of her mom, she knew that her dad was always silently supportive.

"Have fun, kiddo," he said, his eyes crinkling.

She couldn't help but smile. Her dad hadn't called her that since she was eight or nine. "I don't think I'm supposed to be having fun."

"Who cares? I won't tell your mother."

"Bye, Dad." Smiling, she backed up onto the curb and shut the door.

After the Lexus drove off, Rory turned to face her impending hell. Sighing, she crossed the dead, yellow lawn toward the school entrance. The inside was even more depressing than the building let on. The walls were a sickening pale green behind rows of dark teal lockers. The whole place was like puked up bile, reeking of sweat and stale air. Arriving by the directory, she pulled out her phone and checked the room number she was supposed to find. Room 207. Pinpointing it on the map, she memorized the way and set off.

❤ Happiness and Him ❤

"Welcome!" A girl looking no older than twenty-five greeted Rory with a huge grin as soon as she entered the room. Prancing over with her neck full of jewelries clinging against each other, she extended a hand. "I'm Julianne McBride, the group leader. You can call me Julie."

"Hi, I'm Lorelai Hayden." She took her hand. "Rory for short."

"It's wonderful to meet you." Julie beamed, gesturing to the table at the front of the classroom. "Please, sign in and make yourself comfortable."

"Thanks." Rory looked at the plastic seats in the center of the room arranged in a circle. They looked anything but comfortable. Sitting in them were a couple teens, too busy on their phones to acknowledge her presence, which was fine by her since she wasn't here to make friends.

After signing the sheet, Julie guided her to the circle, where she picked out a spot away from the others. The chair squeaked as she sat down, causing one red head to bob up and a pair of eyes to glare her way.

"Sorry," she mumbled, not knowing why she was even apologizing.

Sitting down, she forced her gaze on the front of the room, ignoring the stare burning into her face. _Great, I already made an enemy, _she thought_._ Checking her watch, she saw that she had two hours left to endure. It was going to feel like infinity in this silence, for the only sound filling the air was the screeching of chalk on the blackboard, where Julie was writing in colorful block letters "Let's Talk!" Her over-enthusiasm made up for the indifference overflowing the circle of scornful souls.

As Rory examined the crack on the dull, white floor by the door, a large pair of beaten brown boots stepped through. Her gaze shifted up, observing the boy who walked in, wearing a worn out leather jacket, matte with creases of brown and grey. With his hands in his pockets, he paused at the doorway and looked around. Among his features, the purplish black bruise under his left eye, extending to the apex of his cheekbone, caught Rory's attention. She cringed, thinking he was trouble personified. Without a curvature on his lips, the boy's expression held something that could easily be mistaken for smugness as his eyes scanned the classroom before landing directly on Rory's. Embarrassed to be caught staring, she turned away abruptly only to fixate on the yellowing linoleum flooring. Her cheeks heated; she was surely a mild pink, having been burnt by his single look.

Keeping her gaze low, she heard loud steps harass the floor as the boy made his way to the sign-up sheet. Seconds later, his boots made another appearance in her view as he joined the circle across from her.

"Alright, everyone!" Julie's voice startled the crowd. "Now that we're all here, we can begin."

"Today, we have a new member." She waved to Rory. "Why don't you introduce yourself briefly, such as where you go to school and why you're here?" With an encouraging smile, she added, "We just want to know how we can help.

Clearing her throat, Rory straightened herself. "Um, hi. I'm Rory."

She looked around only to meet blank faces, void of any expression beyond boredom. Feeling sweat build in her palms, she searched for any breathing, non-intimidating creature in the circle of doom and that was when her desperate gaze landed on the blonde-haired boy with the bruise. He was definitely intimidating with the way their eyes locked, but it was the kind of intimidating that challenged you.

So, she stared and, as if speaking to him, she continued, "I go to Chilton Preparatory High and I'm here because…" She gulped, feeling her face burn. "My friend was caught drinking and driving and I was in the car."

She could have sworn the boy's eyes narrowed the slightest bit. Afraid he might read through her with those unflinching dark eyes, she gathered the strength to rip her gaze away.

"It's okay. That's why we're here," Julie added lightly, "to help and self-improve. Welcome to this tight-knit family, Rory."

Rory looked up to the boy's faint smirk, his eyes still on her. Ignoring him, she turned to see Julie hand a stack of paper to the red-headed girl who glared at Rory earlier. "Lindsey, please pass today's worksheet around." The girl took it with a grunt. "Today, we'll be getting into partners and answering the questions 'what are you most grateful for in life?' and 'what can you do to convey that gratefulness to the ones you love?'"

Sighing under her breath, Rory grabbed a worksheet as it came around. She would be grateful if six o'clock rolled around faster and she could get out of here.

❤ Happiness and Him ❤

Her partner, Ted, was a puffy-cheeked boy with a full time stutter and round glasses continuously slipping off his nose. Observing his sweat-stained shirt that hugged his generous stomach, she couldn't guess why he was here even if her life depended on it. Eventually, she settled on him ransacking the school cafeteria for a night time snack.

"So, what are two things you're grateful for in life?" she read the first question off the sheet.

"Uh. Uh. I- I-" He rocked in the chair, wiping his palms on his pants.

Impatient for him to spit out a sentence, she looked away, noticing the room was noisy for once. People's questions and answers bounced off the walls with words like "family", "friends", "money" and "drugs" reaching her ears. She wished Ted would just pick any one of those so she could write it down. Observing the back of the room, she saw the boy she'd noticed. He had a pen in his mouth as he leaned against the wall with a foot on a chair, his jeans baggy against his skinny frame. He nodded as the girl across from him talked. From the tight, pink top and red hair spilling over the girl's back, Rory recognized her to be Lindsey.

"Tha- That's Lo- Logan."

"Huh?" Her head snapped back.

Ted shoved his glasses with a meaty finger. "Tha- That's Lo-"

"Yes, I heard that part," she said, cutting him off, "but who?"

"The, the-" He pointed to the back corner.

"Oh." She smoothed the worksheet in her hand, uncapping her pen and posing to write. "I wasn't asking," she muttered, her face flushing.

"So- So- Sorry."

Feeling mean, she said softly, "It's fine."

"Ten minutes left before we move to the next question!" Julie yelled above the noise.

Frustrated, Rory shook her head. "Ted, do you think you're grateful for your family?"

"Uh. Uh." He nodded. "Yes."

"Great." She gave a small smile. "What about friends?"

"Oh. I- I- don't-." He shook his head.

"Okay." She exhaled. "Just family, then." Jotting down the answers, she said, "Here, I can write my answers for you." Without waiting for his reply, she took the worksheet out of his grip.

"Than- Thanks."

"No problem, Teddy," she said, glancing at the paper. Underneath question one, she wrote "Nicéphore Niépce and soundproof walls".

❤ Happiness and Him ❤

"Great, time's up!" Julie clapped her hands twice, the sound cutting through the chitchat. "Everyone get back to the circle, please."

Shuffles and mumbling ensued as chairs screeched and the circle of doom was full again.

"As usual, I'll collect your answer sheets and re-distribute it randomly. Then, we can read the answers." She walked around, retrieving the papers. "It'll remain anonymous, but we encourage you to step up and share the reason behind your answer." Shuffling the papers, she smiled at the group. "We can only help and learn if we are open and honest."

Rolling her eyes inwardly, Rory capped her pen and tucked it into her jean pocket. After everyone received an answer sheet, the torturous activity began. Clockwise, they read the answers.

"I'm grateful for the drugs stashed behind my dad's filing cabinet in his study room," read Lindsey.

"And does the person who wrote this want to share their reason?" Julie asked in her ever saccharine tone, which had Rory suspecting that she was a robot built for youth support groups.

Looking around, Julie said, "No? All right, but remember, we can only help if we're open and honest." Shaking her head, she gestured to the next victim. "Logan?"

Slumping forward, he propped his elbows on his knees, holding the paper in his hands. Before he spoke, he cleared his throat while catching Rory's eyes. "Nicéphore Niépce and soundproof walls."

His deep, smooth voice was an expected feature to go with the package, but what surprised her was the way he pronounced the French name without a problem.

"Okay…" Julie finally sounded anything besides chirpy. Her gaze danced around. "Would the person like to explain?"

Watching Logan, it was undeniable in the way his eyes bored into hers that he knew she wrote the answer. Nervous from the intimate observation, she let out a half-snort, half-choke.

"Rory?" Julie's eyes lit up. "Would you like to explain?"

_Crap on a stick._ Wetting her lips, she said. "Um, Nicéphore Niépce is the inventor of photography." Puzzled looks were her response. "And I like photography." Though, _like_ was an understatement since she owned boxes of collections under her bed.

"Okay, that's a good start." Julie's head bobbed up and down. "And the soundproof walls?"

Shifting in her seat, Rory glanced at Logan who was examining her with crossed arms. His ruffled hair was golden under the light, contrasting the dark brown in his eyes. Bringing her gaze back to Julie, she said, "I like to stay in my room when, well, things in life aren't exactly rosy and I'm sure anyone who's blasted music in their rooms is grateful for soundproof walls."

"Yes," Julie chuckled, "I'm sure many here can relate."

Paying no attention to the reply, Rory's eyes were fixed on the boy with her paper. He kept staring with his lips firmly pressed. His eyes challenged her presence like she didn't belong, like _she_ was a peculiarity in a room full of problematic personalities.

_He's the weird one_, she thought while holding his gaze. She wanted to prove that she did belong; though this was the last place she wanted to be in.

❤ Happiness and Him ❤

At exactly six, Rory folded the useless worksheets in her hands and headed for the door behind the crowd. After two hours of sappy questions and Julie's cheerfulness, her head was spinning. She felt her IQ drop by the minute, and to make matters worse she was aware of the boy's stalkerish looks with each breath she took. She couldn't get out of there fast enough. This was one of those days she needed the comfort of her bedroom walls. Pink and white. Her dad had painted it when she was six. Now, it was a bit too whimsical for her age, but she didn't care. It was familiar and safe, from the pestering maids, the overbearing Hartford society, and piano recitals she'd always dreaded.

After calling home and asking Shelly, the maid of the month, to arrange someone to pick her up, Rory sat by the school entrance with flickering lights above her, illuminating the school's vomit green walls.

"Miss?" A cleaning lady with her graying hair in a hairnet walked up.

"Yes?"

"The school's closing." She mopped at the area around Rory's feet, not at all shy to jab at her shoes in the process. "I'm locking the doors and you need to leave."

"What?" Rory checked her watch while ducking the mop's advances. "It's only six-twenty."

The lady glared. "We close at six-fifteen."

"Oh." Sighing, she dragged herself up. "Thanks for letting me know."

Pushing through the metal door, Rory stepped out into the night air, letting out a breath while relishing the drops of moisture stinging her face. Though it was cold, breathing in the scent of frost and grass was a relief. Like a caged bird that was finally set free, she half jogged across the lawn toward the sidewalk where her dad had dropped her off, remembering the lone bench she'd seen. Nearing the road, her pace slowed down as she squinted to make out the shadow sitting in her target. Walking up, Rory stopped by the road, a few feet from the bench and observed the shadow sitting there under the street light.

In the dim halo, the guy's silhouette was an elusive veil. His back was slouched with one hand in his pocket and a black hoodie covering his head as he stared at the ground. Raising a hand to his lips, a puff of white smoke streamed out of his mouth, carrying the smell of cigarettes into her nostrils, and in turn making her cringe at the idea of her new jacket being ruined by the scent. Just as she moved to gain more distance, the guy turned his head and looked her way.

Even with the yellow haze contouring his features, Rory noticed the shade on his cheekbone right away. His lips were parted, outlined by shadows that drew out each corner and creek, and his eyes were deep, holding hers without a flinch. Watching her, the cigarette found him once again and his mouth opened further, forming an O shape, as another round of white burst into the cold. Rings of smoke dissipated into the air, lazily blurring his face.

Quickly, she looked away and focused on the grits of rocks embedded in the concrete. She'd never met anyone who liked to stare so much, she frowned at the thought. It made her uneasy and pulled her heart into an offbeat rhythm. The boys at school surely didn't stare unless a girl was wearing a mini-skirt on the verge of exposing their butt, but with how bare she felt under Logan's gaze, she could have very well been in a minuscule outfit.

Breaking into her thoughts was the sound of a car followed by a beam of bright light on the road in front of her. Looking up, she saw her mom's Porsche pull up.

Wasting no time, Rory opened the car door and slipped in. "Hey, Mom."

"Hey." Her mother's clipped reply came. She sounded nervous anytime she was away from the up-scale neighborhood they lived in. Rory noticed it ever since middle school when her mom would drop her off at her friends' houses and, on the way, passed through any places that weren't up to the Lorelai Gilmore standard.

"Thanks for picking me up." She buckled her seat belt, wanting to sprint out of the boy's sight, yet as the car crawled toward the bench where Logan sat, she couldn't help but look. He watched her with a deep scorn, his eyes darting to every part of the car. She didn't think he could look more dangerous, but, right then, he did. If it wasn't because she was sitting soundly in a moving vehicle, she would fear what he would do to her, or mostly to her heartbeat as it was already picking up speed. She wanted to get out of there, but at the same time couldn't force her gaze away.

"Do you know him?"

Startled, Rory's head spun around. "Oh, no." She shifted in her seat as the car left the school grounds. "He's...just a guy from the support group."

With eyes on the road, her mom said, "You're here for ten weeks. Stay away from those people."

Remembering those piercing eyes, Rory whispered, "Yes, Mom."

* * *

**Thanks for reading and please leave a review! I would love to hear your feedback!**

I had this story in my head for a long time now and the pieces really started coming together in the last week. It's completely AU. You'll learn about each character as you read on. One major thing is, Rory grew up with Lorelai and Chris married. Also, this story looks at what if Lorelai wasn't the quirky, open-minded, and supportive mom on the show? What if her and Chris married when she got pregnant at 16, and they raised Rory in a fancy house with maids, Emily and Richard style? Would Rory be rebellious just like her mom was on the show?

Another thing is Logan isn't the rich boy on the show. You will find out about his past and life as the story goes on.

Please let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: I do not own Gilmore Girls or any of the characters in it!


	2. Chapter 2

**_Two_**

Just as the bell rang, signifying the end of the school day, students poured into the hallways in herds of navy and white. Rory and Chelsea left their history class side by side, squeezing through the heavy traffic to get to the rows of blue lockers. Having been best friends since freshman year, now at fifteen, they were inseparable. On the first day of school, they'd picked their lockers to be next to each other's while making sure it was away from Sticky Suzy's, who was infamous for constantly chewing gum and hunting down locker doors to stick them to.

A few feet away from their target, the girls stopped in their tracks as their lockers were blocked by a blonde-haired boy pressing up against a girl, with their lips glued together, oblivious to the busy bodies passing by.

"_Ew_." Chelsea flipped her long, bleached hair and leaned her hip against the metal. "Get a room."

"Tristan, you're on my locker." Frowning, Rory shifted the heavy stack of books in her arms and waited for the boy to move. Tristan's public display of affection was a major eyesore that she had to witness since she was twelve and he was fourteen. Their parents were good friends and she'd known him since they were little. Even then, he always had a girl beside him, though thankfully their vomit inducing interactions would limit to sharing the same red cherry lollipop and the occasional Popsicle. Rory had never understood his intrigue with the many ways germs could be exchanged.

Seeing the continuous make out fest, Chelsea banged a fist on the locker just to the left of the girl's head, making the couple jump. Despite the interruption, Tristan grabbed the girl's waist and gave her a deep smooch before pulling away for good. The girl licked her puckered lips, giggling.

Finally, the boy turned to his friends. "Hey, ladies."

"The next time you shove your dirty tongue down someone's throat, could you do it _away_ from our lockers?" Chelsea pushed him out of the way, nudging the girl in the process.

He ducked. "Jealous much?"

She spun around, smacking his stomach with a notebook. "Shut up, jerk."

Rory watched Tristan's girl of the week look between the two, wide eyed and baffled. She flashed the girl an apologetic smile, knowing Chelsea could get a bit rough when anyone neared her crush.

"Whatever." Tristan pulled the sophomore into his arm, placing a kiss on her hair. "I was being generous, waiting here to invite you guys to the party tonight."

"Go screw yourself." Chelsea slammed the locker door, her long hair flying in the air as she jerked around. "I'd rather watch 'The O.C.' re-runs than go to your stupid party."

"Suit yourself." He rolled his eyes. "What 'bout you, Ror?"

Rory bent to retrieve her bag from the locker. "Can't. I've community service." She stood up, swinging the bag over her shoulder. "Besides, there's a test coming up. The new history teacher is completely preoccupied with details and citing sources of each fact. I'm gonna be pulling all sorts of all-nighters."

"Didn't catch any of that crap." He snickered. "You've community service, you say?"

"Yeah, every Wednesdays," she said, "Are you even doing yours?"

Ignoring her question, he asked, "The support group shit?"

"That's Saturdays." She headed down the hall with Chelsea by her side while Tristan and his girlfriend, who they didn't bother figuring out the name to, followed close behind. "Today, I'm helping out at the school's library."

Tristan jogged up until he was walking backwards while facing the girls. "This is why you'll never get a boyfriend." He smirked. "_Mary._"

Rory scowled. "And _this_ is why you're always dumped before second base."

"_Jerk,_" Chelsea added.

Grinning at each other, the girls turned the corner, leaving him and his girlfriend at the hall intersection.

"We don't want you juniors at the party, anyway!" Tristan yelled.

Without turning back, Rory called, "See you tomorrow, Tristan!"

Chelsea linked her arm with Rory's and, together, they stepped outside past the school entrance where perfectly trimmed bushes, like green ice cubes, extended in two rows to frame the light grey driveway. There, they stood with the gentle April breeze running through their hair and waited for their rides that would come in black and white colors of luxurious sedans.

❤ Happiness and Him ❤

Half an hour later, the family chauffeur dropped Rory off at Greyview High. David had been their driver since Rory was little and she'd spent much time in his car, which made it weird that she still didn't know his last name. Although her parents did try to be involved in her life, at least more so than others at Chilton, and would pick her up from places, attend her piano recitals and go to parent-teacher interviews, her dad was always working and her mom had a gazillion DAR events to plan. Therefore, Rory would often end up with David.

He was a stubby man, probably in his forties, and always wearing a grey suit with black pants. She didn't mind him, in fact, she liked David. He was quiet and never one to pry, and even sneaked her to places as long as she begged hard enough, such as the time she wanted to attend the photo convention after her piano lesson. It was rare to find a professional event that was open to the public. Rory had been so excited, seeing the walls covered with colorful works, simple yet powerful. She even took a few pamphlets, containing descriptions and such, and had given David one as a 'thank you', though he never mentioned what he did with it afterward. Actually, he acted as if the event never happened, to which Rory had reasoned that it was probably so he didn't feel guilty in front of her parents.

Passing through the school's hallway, she followed the overhead signs to the library. Although she'd been to two group sessions now, the building was still quite foreign. Remembering last session, her thoughts went to the blonde-haired boy with the bruise, who'd made her heart beat a bit too fast - like the time she tried an energy drink for the first time. Only Logan wasn't a bottle of calories and caffeine, though she knew he would be just as bad for her; it was one of those women's sixth sense that the movies were always talking about. Nevertheless, the first thing she noticed when she'd arrived at support group was that he wasn't there. He wasn't in his seat, staring at her from across the circle, which led her to wondering where he was. Maybe the other day was his last session, maybe he was home sick with the flu, maybe his family moved to Asia and won't return 'til five years later. She'd spent two hours making up scenarios, just to avoid the dreadful topic of the day. Forgiveness. After minutes of hearing Ted stutter and two hours of discussion, she still didn't forgive the fact that the school's classrooms smelled like leftover food, or that the staircases were a revolting yellow-green.

Walking into the library the size of her dining room, she spotted Julie sitting behind the information desk. Julie worked at the library on the evenings and offered Rory to volunteer there as part of her community service. Rory accepted, knowing she would be happier among the things she liked such as books.

"Hey, Julie."

"Oh, hi, Rory!" Julie looked away from the computer. "How are you?"

"I'm okay, all things considered." Rory nodded. "How 'bout you?"

"I'm exceptional!" She beamed, standing up. "Thanks so much for asking."

Rory suppressed a chuckle, having gotten used to her zest for life. "So, what do you need me to do?"

"Well, let's give you a mini-orientation first, and then I'll get to the tasks." She walked over to the bookshelves beside her desk. "I'm so very grateful for your help, by the way."

"Oh no, thank _you_." Rory followed. "This beats having to pick up trash in the back parking lot any day."

Julie gave a high-pitched laugh, her shoulders shaking. "All righty! Let's get you familiarized with this place."

❤ Happiness and Him ❤

It turns out Greyview High was not only old and smelly, its library was also a disorganized dump. After the orientation, Julie led Rory to the back corner in between two high shelves and waved to the hundreds of books around them.

"See these here?" She ran a finger along the wood. "They're new and old arrivals. Old meaning they were hauled from closed down libraries or book drives." Lifting her finger, she blew the dust off with a huff. "Your job is to sort and place them in the right categories."

"Okay…" Speechless, Rory scanned the different shelf levels, each carrying books with thick, grey layers of dust. Certainly, this corner right here was how the school got its name. She wouldn't be surprised if the books arrived decades ago.

"Don't worry. When you're done, I've more exciting tasks!" Julie grinned.

Somehow, Rory thought her idea of exciting could be misleading. After gaping at the clutter, she found her voice. "Thanks, Julie." She tried at a chuckle, which turned into a cough when the dusty air clogged her air pipe. "I guess I better get started."

"All righty, have fun!" Julie threw a smile before bouncing off, her pony tail swiping the grimy air clean.

Looking around, Rory's eyes landed on the little plastic chair in the corner. Still in her Chilton uniform, she debated if she should sit down and risk dirtying her clothes. Not to sound like a spoiled rich kid, but everything about this place disgusted her. At home, they had two, three maids a day, just dusting away and occasionally getting into her mother's medicine cabinet, while the last time these shelves were clean was probably when it was first made.

Eventually, she settled on sitting on the chair's edge. Almost holding her breath, she poked at the book on the bottom left. As much as she loved reading, this time, she was wary of picking a book up. Biting on her bottom lip, she wrapped her fingers around the book's spine, sliding it slowly out of the shelf. Little grey particles flew into the air, sending her into a coughing fit. As she held the book on her lap and flipped the cover open, her scowl slowly faded. Thinking of how deep her mother would scorn if she saw the dust building on her skirt, Rory couldn't help but smile. There was something about looking through a dirty, old book. It was a simple task, but it made her feel different, since getting her hands and clothes dirty definitely wasn't something she was allowed to do at home.

Looking up, she examined her surroundings, noticing the low ceiling and stained carpet. _Yup, Mom would flip._Biting her lip to contain her amusement, she suddenly wished she had her camera to capture this moment. In fact, she decided she would bring it on Saturday and take a few shots of the hideous green walls, rusty old lockers and grubby books in this place. The photos would be different from the scenery and people she usually captured, something new for her collection.

❤ Happiness and Him ❤

Two hours passed and the sky grew dark. It started raining, drizzles at first, before mercilessly increasing force. By the railing contouring the bicycle racks near Greyview High's front entrance, three boys were hanging out despite the rain.

"C'mon boss, skip Saturday's session and crash the party with us." The tall boy in a thick jacket grabbed his skateboard off the ground and hopped onto the metal railing to sit beside his two friends. His long legs dangled just inches from the ground where splatters of water collided with wet puddles.

"Nah." Logan, who sat between the guys, let out a breath of smoke under his umbrella.

"Why not?" asked the short, skinny boy on his right, who was soaked everywhere except his hair, which was kept extra dry by a baseball cap and hoodie.

Logan shrugged, thinking of the new girl with her big, blue eyes and cleanly pressed clothes, how her hair was neatly tucked behind her ears, not a stray strand in sight, and the way she crossed her ankles when she sat, and smoothed out the worksheet with her palm as soon as she held it. He didn't understand why she was there, but she was and for some reason he wanted to be there too. He'd only watched her kind from afar, yet now she was an archetype walking right into his territory, a hot one nevertheless. He found himself studying her with curiosity and perhaps a sliver of interest.

Finally answering the question, he said, "I already missed last session. If I miss anymore, I'll end up in the principal's office."

"Who cares?" The skinny boy snickered, his little black beads for eyes squinting with his smile. "You practically live there."

"Shut up, Mouse." The tall boy reached over Logan's chest and slapped his friend in the stomach, causing him to tip backwards and almost fall off.

"Leave him alone, Rocky," Logan said, jumping off the railing and landing on a relatively dry spot in the gravel. Under the light, he checked his watch. "It's past six. Let's get going." He turned and flashed his friends a grin, spreading his arm wide. "I've got big bucks to win."

"Ohh yeah." Mouse hopped off excitedly. Though short, he was agile on his feet, which was an advantage for when he got into trouble with those bigger than him, much much bigger. He headed for Logan, chanting, "Let's show Steeler and them who's boss."

Rocky followed in large strides. "Did I mention I even wore my lucky shoes?" He hooked the two friends' necks with his arms while towering over them.

Ducking with a chuckle, Logan sauntered to the trash can near the entrance to discard his cigarette just as the front door opened and a girl emerged from the building. She looked around frantically with hands above her head to shield from the rain. He noticed her yellow backpack and knee-length skirt, before he saw her face. His heart stirred when he realized it was the new girl at the support group. Rory.

As if she felt his stare, her head turned his way, her eyes a dark blue under the dim light, locking with his. They widened slightly before a small frown crossed her features and her gaze darted to Rocky and Mouse who were behind him. Stuck in his spot, he watched her while holding on tightly to his umbrella. She was only a few feet away, should he offer his umbrella, or at least say 'Hi'? He never knew what to do when it came to her kind. Since he was young, he learned to hate everything she represented, those rich, spoiled snobs who the world revolved around, yet there was a small tremble in his heart whenever her eyes landed on his.

Firing up a debate in his head at what he should do, Logan just watched as Rory looked away and headed toward the sidewalk across the lawn. He knew she was going to the bench, where she would wait for her fancy ride. Heck, what was he thinking? He didn't belong in her world just like she didn't belong here. He and her were two different species and everyone knew that those of different species did not attract. In fact, she'd be gone in a couple weeks, back to her mansion, limousines and shit.

When Rory was out of earshot, Mouse punched Logan on the arm. "Who's that?"

"Daddy's little princess?" Rocky snickered, observing the girl.

Watching Rory place her backpack on the bench and pull out what looked like a folder to hold over her head, Logan felt his jaws tense as the damned spot in his chest clenched like he was almost sympathetic. Around him, the rain was speeding up, hitting the gravel with loud splats. Even from the distance, he saw that her hair was drenched along with her jacket. Shaking his head, he tried to look away. _Damnit Logan, just forget it_.

"Come on. Let's go." Rocky turned, heading for the alley near the building. "We're gonna be late."

Expelling a loud breath, he turned and pointed at his friends. "Actually... You guys go ahead without me," he said, backing away, "I'll catch up." With a final glance, he turned and jogged toward the street.

Damn little rich girl just had to pull at his heart.

❤ Happiness and Him ❤

_How stupid was I to not bring an umbrella?_Rory shivered as she gripped the binder. The boy from her support group was there with his friends, probably watching her as always, and here she was looking foolish with stationary over her head. She could feel his gaze on her back even through the slate of heavy rain. She'd noticed his bruise was gone, revealing his cheek, pale under the light. He wasn't wearing a hoodie this time, exposing his tousled blonde hair, the bright lining to his darkness. Without the black and purple, something else caught her attention tonight. He looked good, in that trouble-causing, sweep-you-off-your-feet way. Maybe it was the deep indents at the corner of his lips, or the intensity behind his solid brown eyes that seemed to unveil all her secrets, but whatever it was he definitely looked hot. Her cheeks heated at the thought.

The sound of footsteps on the wet grass found Rory's ears. She turned over her shoulder and, to her surprise, the very boy she was thinking of was jogging toward her, carrying an umbrella. He slowed down as he neared.

Staring with a jumbled brain, Rory backed up as he stopped beside her. She was afraid that if he got too close, those eyes would see right through her. He would _know_ she thought he was hot and that would just be the worst thing that could happen. The _worst_.

Without a word, he held the umbrella over her head until his arm was extended and half of his body was exposed to the rain. Seeing spots of water mark his leather jacket, Rory automatically stepped closer so they could both fit under the umbrella. Swallowing, she mumbled, "Thanks."

They were so close that she almost felt his warm breath on her face and had to tilt her head to see his eyes. She should be avoiding them, but maybe under the dim light his gaze wouldn't send her heart into the awkward dance she'd experience the other week.

She was wrong.

Her little heart pounded, telling her so.

He looked down at her, his mouth in a line. "My pleasure," he muttered with a low breath.

This was the first time he talked to her. They'd stared at each other during the group session, but they didn't talk to each other. Those were his first words to her. It was only two words, but it made her nervous anyway. Feeling heat creep up her cheeks, she broke the eye contact only to watch the road with her chest vibrating due to the overworked chamber underneath. The only sound around them was the drops of rain hitting the umbrella and ground in rapid, clean moves. Splat. Splat. Splat.

The awkward silence was causing sweat to form in her palms. She could tell from the first impression that he wasn't a talker, but this wordless exchange was ridiculously nerve-wracking. To make matters worse, she'd never been this close to a boy before, except Tristan and he didn't count since she'd known him for so long that he was like a brother. _Was this what it was like to be near a boy?_ She had to ask Chelsea - but only when Tristan's not around. Certainly, he would just laugh and call her 'Mary' in that annoying way.

Imagining the silly advises Chelsea would give in response, Rory stood there as still as humanly possible, afraid that if she just as breathed, her jacket would brush against his chest, which probably wouldn't be nice. Well, it might be _nice_, but definitely not something her heart could handle. Inhaling discreetly, she noticed his smell. It was different from the colognes the boys at school wore. His was a faint scent of fresh laundry, like cotton on a summer day. Once again, she sneaked a tiny whiff, afraid to be caught fancying his scent.

"It's Rory, right?" His sudden voice made her jump practically feet into the air. "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

Clearing her throat, her skin flushed. "Yeah, sorry. I didn't introduce myself." She looked up. "I'm Rory. Rory Hayden."

His lips curled, the move crinkling his eyes. "Logan. Logan Conway." he said as a smile met her for the first time. Two firsts from him in one night. How interesting.

"Hi Logan, Logan Conway." A silly grin reached her face, before plastering in the spot. _Wait_, was the smile a making-fun smile or the I-think-you're-cool-and-wanna-get-to-know-you-more smile? She frowned slightly, unable to decide.

Examining her, his lips spread a tiny bit further. "Hi."

Hearing her heart thump louder, she turned away and went back to staring at the road. That was definitely a making-fun smile... or maybe not. All she knew was that she had to ask Chelsea.

Catching a mild breeze through her ice cold hair, a shiver ran down her spine.

"You're soaked," he said.

She let out an awkward chuckle. "Yeah, I should have brought an umbrella." She looked at him and rambled, "David, my driver, he always keeps one in the car, but-" She stopped when his eyes tensed and the smile she'd seen disappeared._God, I must sound like I'm showing off. I should just shut up._

Clearing his throat, he asked, "Do you want my jacket?"

"What?"

"Here, hold this." He extended the umbrella at her. She took it, dumbfounded, and watched him strip off his coat. When he stepped closer, his chest now _definitely_ touching her sleeve, and draped the clothing over her shoulders, her mind went completely blank and her body froze.

Eventually, her brain signaled for low oxygen level and she breathed. "Thanks," she managed to mumble.

"No problem." He retrieved the umbrella and held it over them once again.

They went back to standing in silence, listening to the rain. Warm under his jacket, the fabric's scent surrounded Rory. It was a mixture of leather and a faint dab of smoke. Although she usually couldn't stand cigarettes, the smell lingering on his jacket was so faint that it was an intoxicating charm. Maybe there was even a hint of lavender, like the kind in laundry detergents, she mused. For the next few minutes, she wondered about the brand he used, just to avoid thinking of whether she should start a conversation. She could ask him why he wasn't at the session last week, but that would show she noticed and it might sound like she was prying. No, she should just stay quiet.

The street glistened under the yellow lights while drops of rain landed and broke the smooth watery surface. A car drove into Rory's view which she recognized as David's black Mercedes. Cringing as she remembered the scorn on Logan's face when he'd seen her mom's car, she nervously cleared her throat and turned to him.

"That's my ride. Thanks for the umbrella." Her eyes locked with his and, instantly, her body temperature rose. Fumbling with the heavy leather draped over her, she added, "And, um, jacket."

He nodded, helping her with the coat. "See you Saturday." A slow curve began on his lips. "Rory Hayden."

"See you Saturday." She repeated. _Logan Conway._

* * *

**Thanks for reading and please leave a review!**

Don't worry, Logan won't be like Jess. Although I do like Jess, Logan's still Logan. As you read on, you'll find he is still the same guy we all know (with the good and bad parts). He just has went through very different things in life and that will affect him in many ways.

Also, Lorelai will have a different parenting style and be strict, but she's still loves her daughter and just wants the best for her. Although they aren't super close like on the show, you will see they still have some bonding time.

Please let me know what you think!

Thanks for the reviews! I'm so glad to hear you guys are interested in the story as I know it is going to be very different, but I am so excited about it.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Three_**

It was dinnertime at the Hayden residence on a Friday night, which meant five people sitting around a table that could fit eight, slowly and gracefully filling their stomachs with pretentiously cooked food and holding even more pretentious conversations. Rory's grandparents, Richard and Emily Gilmore, joined them for dinner on occasional Fridays, which often meant she had to stay for the entire three courses and endure the chitchat. Cutting a microscopic slice of salmon and placing it into her mouth, she chewed while trying hard to taste anything at all. Today, she was on her best behavior since she was gearing up to ask her mom if she could go to Chelsea's next Saturday. Chelsea said she needed an RSVP by tonight, and naturally Rory waited for the last minute to ask for permission.

Sitting across from Rory, her mother took a sip of martini, pursing her lips when she was done in the exact way Grandma would. With her brown hair styled into voluptuous curls, reaching above her shoulders, and slender frame fitting nicely in a pale blue blazer, her mom looked just like Grandma. Actually, she didn't just _look_ like Grandma, her mom was essentially a duplicated copy, just younger in age. They both sat with their backs super straight while they ate and their voices were almost always stern. At least her mom was different than Grandma in one way, which was that Grandma _never_ understood sarcasm or jokes, while her mom at least knew to chuckle at the funny things in life. However, even though Rory was a splitting image of her mother, she felt they weren't much alike. Well, except those nights when she found her in the kitchen drinking coffee and snacking on pop tarts. It seems that unhealthy sweets made for their only bonding time.

"How's school going?" her mom asked, smiling at her with a slight curl of her lips.

"Good," Rory replied, nodding. What else was she supposed to say? Her parents asked the same question every dinner. She was a high school student, not an overseas correspondent working in Iraq or something. Was something dinner-talk worthy supposed to happen every single day?

"Exams are coming up?" Grandpa chimed in, smiling eagerly at Rory while his swirly thick moustache danced as he talked.

Focusing on slicing her food, she nodded some more. "Yup, I've seven finals this year."

"Wow," her dad exclaimed, in the way that made Rory feel he was trying too hard in front of the in-laws; she almost felt ashamed for him. "That's quite a lot. Have you started preparing?"

"Mmhm. I'm going over History and English notes." Honestly, she was glad she started studying for the finals early since now her Wednesday and Saturday nights were occupied by community service. Ever since she was little, she'd wanted to go to Harvard, and it was those numerous Harvard posters on her bedroom walls that had kept her motivated no matter the nerdy names Tristan would call her.

"Rory loves English and History," her mother said to Grandma, "I was never too fond of it."

"That's 'cause Rory's a hundred times the student you were." Grandma spoke with a small smile, sounding proud.

"Let's not go there, Mom." Her mom dismissed the topic, clearly trying to avoid reminiscing her high school years. Rory's mom had told her how she got married hastily after she found out she was pregnant. Her mom and dad held a small wedding in a white chapel with only twenty something guests, because it was apparently critical to keep her pregnancy a secret for as long as they could. However, the secret only lasted for the first trimester since Hartford housewives with money and no work reserved twelve hours a day for gossiping.

And gossiping was exactly what Rory's mother and grandma did all dinner. They talked about incredibly boring subjects such as so and so got married, and so and so hooked up with a third cousin with a hideous buzz cut. Halfway through dinner, when the adults were enjoying themselves with topics common in Hartford society, such as politics and functions, Rory felt her patience wean as all she wanted to do was ask about Chelsea's party and get it over with.

_They're laughing! This is perfect time to ask_, Rory's conscious encouraged her during a particularly joyous exchange between the ladies regarding some blonde's nose surgery._ Remember, calm and mature. _Sitting up straight in the most adult-like manner she knew of, she cleared her throat. "Mom?"

Her mom faced her after delighting in Dad's previous sentence. "Yes?"

"Chelsea's having a party next Saturday-"

"No." Immediately, the smile turned into a stern line. "Not after what happened at the last party you went to."

"But, _Mom_," Rory whined. Calm and mature were now blurs, having darted a hundred steps out the door. "It's her birthday. She's my best friend. I can't miss it!"

"Rory, your mother's right," her dad stepped in, "You're still grounded after what happened, which means no parties."

"Besides, didn't the girl already have a birthday party a few months back?" her mom asked.

Groaning, Rory said, "That was her three quarters sweet sixteen party. This is the _official_ sweet sixteen. I really can't miss it." She had no choice but to whip out the 'Goldfish Pout' her dad had coined, sticking out her bottom lip, and puffing her cheeks in the most subtle way. It was the look that got her out of a few piano lessons when she was younger. Yes, she was too old for it now, but maybe, just maybe, it still had a bit of effect. "Mom," she pleaded, "Dad. _Pleasee_."

Her mom's glare softened slightly as she turned to catch her dad's eyes. Rory knew they were holding one of their unspoken parent discussions. For the next minute, everyone at the table was silent, where Grandma and Grandpa watched and most likely judged their daughter's parenting skills, while Rory held her breath, anticipating her parent's conclusion. Seeing her mom's lips turn upward ever so slightly, she high-fived herself in her head, believing there was a chance. Crossing her fingers under the table, she watched and waited.

Finally, her parents' eye contact broke apart and her mom faced her. "You have to be home by ten."

"What?! Chelsea's party doesn't even start 'til eight."

Sighing, her dad said, "Fine, eleven-"

"Daadd-"

He held out a finger, his expression firm. "That's final. Take it or leave it."

"Fine." Rory stabbed at the food on her plate, putting on a slight frown, although secretly she knew she'd won a huge victory. This time, she was the one to try at a conversation, even bringing up Grandma's favorite topic – the piano. "I'll practice for the level test when I get home tomorrow."

"Good." Her mom smiled, the rare, warm expression brightening her face and making her seem years younger. "Honey, I know you don't like practicing, but you've got real talent for it."

Rory resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "I know, Mom. Thanks."

"It's a good skill to have for a girl of your age and background," Grandma unsurprisingly chimed in, "We're not expecting you to be the next Stephen Hough or anything-"

"I sure hope not, 'cause I've tried but it's definitely a challenge to grow a beard," Rory couldn't help but throw in.

"Was that supposed to be a joke?" Grandma's head cocked to a side, looking at Rory with either mock or genuine bemusement. She couldn't tell which.

"Never mind, it wasn't funny," Rory muttered. See what she meant about the sarcasm and humor?

"Richard, was that supposed to be a joke? Did you find it funny?"

Grandpa's eyes widened, as if dreading to be brought into the conversation. He licked his lips, pondering the right thing to say. "I think what Rory meant was-"

"I know what she meant, I just don't know if it was supposed to be funny and I missed something. Maybe my sense of humor is completely off." Grandma's tone dared anyone around the table to agree.

"Oh, no, no." He shook his head. "I think you've a perfect sense of humor, Emily."

"Oh yeah, perfect, Mom." Catching Rory's eyes, her mom gave a slight chortle. "When the next comedian retires, they'll definitely want you there with your own talk show."

Stifling a giggle, Rory and her mother exchanged another look. Sometimes, her mom could be pretty cool.

❤ Happiness and Him ❤

The next day, at exactly four, Rory walked into the small classroom that had become all too familiar. It was the third Saturday she was forced to spend with Julie and her cheerful grin. Readying herself for another two hours of ridiculously cheesy discussions, she made her way to the circle of doom and took her seat beside Ted. It wasn't like there was a seating plan or anything, but she was a creature of habit and it had become her habit to share her misery with the boy with the stutter, who no one else in the circle seemed to care for. What she didn't like about her seat, however, besides the fact that it was in Greyview High, was that she sat right across from the red-headed girl, Lindsey. Over the weeks, Rory's learned that this girl was no Miss Congeniality. Her glare could be felt a hundred miles away. She glared whenever Rory moved in her chair, or answered a question, or as much as breathed.

"Hey," Rory greeted Ted after sitting down.

With his round cheeks a light pink, he looked at her like he always did – nervous and scared. "H-Hi."

The sound of claps interrupted their very meaningful conversation, turning Rory's attention to Julie who was at the front of the class, wearing a bright yellow sweater to match her always bright mood. Quickly, Rory scanned the faces in the circle, confirming that a certain blonde-haired boy wasn't there, causing a tiny sense of disappointment to sink in her stomach. _He said 'See you Saturday'. It's Saturday and I don't see him – not that I was looking forward to it or anything._

"Today, I've some really exciting news to share!" A smile appeared on Julie's face as she looked at the door. "But, we'll have to wait for the missing person… AH, there you are!"

Logan appeared through the door, clearly startled by Julie's exclamation. "Uh, hey," he said.

Julie rushed over, pulling him by the arm while he looked around in confusion until his gaze stopped on Rory. He threw a questioning look, to which Rory shrugged back, watching the Julie and Logan ensemble move together to the front of the class, one bouncing on her toes and one dragged across the floor.

Positioning Logan in front of everyone's puzzled looks, Julie grinned. "As I said, I've really exciting news!"

The boy jammed his hands into the pockets of his jacket (the one that was draped _on her_ the other night) and stood there, completely still with shoulders slumped.

"You might have heard of the Connecticut Creative Writing Contest." Julie patted Logan's arm. "Well, a short story by Logan here was selected by the school to compete aand… Drumrolls please!" She perused each of the faces in the circle.

Everyone stared at her, none being as enthusiastic. While Ted might have contributed a tiny clap, Rory just gaped, not understanding why Logan was up there, or why his story was entered for a contest since she certainly didn't pin him as the academic type. Never mind the gloomy vibe he carried, the guy had gotten a giant bruise for crying out loud. The academics at her school certainly didn't do that. _She_ certainly didn't do that.

Unaffected by the cold front, Julie beamed and punched Logan in the arm playfully. Clearly unable to stand the suspense any longer, she exclaimed, "Logan's story won FIRST PLACE, which is a whopping $1000 prize!"

Blinking a couple times, Rory jerked her attention from Julie to the boy still standing there, not holding any expression on his sculpted face. _He writes?! _

She watched as Julie congratulated Logan with for an awkward, one-sided hug. Then, the girl nudged him toward the circle. "Okay, I'll let him go now, so some serious congratulating can ensue."

Before Rory realized it, Logan was walking past Lindsey and the seat where he sat last time with mumbles of 'Congrats' following him, heading directly toward her. With no conscious effort, her gaze followed his every move as her brain tried to place him, the boy with the black and purple bruise, with creative writing. Stopping by her right, he looked at her and gave a small nod, before sitting down. Eventually realizing that she was staring in front of the whole class, she composed herself and muttered, "Congratulations."

He responded with a small curl of his lips, just like the one he gave the other night, and as previously, Rory's heart beat a little faster. She might have even enjoyed the way he held her gaze, if it wasn't for Lindsey's glare she sensed out of the corner of her eyes. _What was her problem now?_

"All righty!" Julie clapped, snapping the tension between the teenagers in half. "Let's move on to today's question since we wouldn't wanna run out of time, would we?" She started passing out the dreaded worksheets. "As usual, get into partners and discuss."

As conversational voices erupted and pairs were formed, Rory automatically turned to her left at Ted, although her mind was somewhere else. Knowing Logan was beside her, all she could think of was the smell of his jacket from her memory…leather with a hint of lavender.

Pointing, Ted stared past her, looking frightened. "He- He-"

"Mind if I steal her for today?" The smooth voice she'd heard Wednesday night came from behind.

Rory's eyes widened briefly at the sound, just as the chubby boy stuttered, "N-No."

In the most rigid way, she turned her body to face Logan.

"Hey, Rory Hayden." Her full name somehow sounded sophisticated off his lips.

"Hi," she replied and for a second just stared into his eyes, noticing how it was a light shade of caramel under the bright classroom lights. Seeing myriad specks of gold in his irises, she couldn't remember why she'd thought of them as dark. Snapping out of it, she quickly turned to apologize to Ted.

"I-It's f-fine," he said as blotches of red appeared on his cheeks.

Though Rory felt bad for ditching him, she also couldn't help but feel excited. Maybe a change of partner would make the next two hours more bearable, she reasoned. _It had _nothing_ to do with me finding Logan hot. Nothing._

After Ted found a different partner, in the form of a girl almost twice as tall as him, Rory and Logan settled into the back corner of the room where he'd sat with Lindsey previously.

"Do you always sit here?" she asked, smoothing her skirt before sitting down while making sure to maneuver her clumsy feet so she didn't trip.

He dragged a chair over to the wall. "I like my privacy while answering these deep, soul-searching questions." A light smirk touched his lips as he sank down.

Hoping to save the tiny bit of cool she still carried, Rory chose to ignore the look. "Well then, let the soul searching begin."

He leaned his head against the wall and looked at her with his mouth pressed and eyes crinkling at the corners. "Read me the question," he said.

Licking her dry lips, she ripped her gaze from his and read, "What comes to mind when you think of the word 'happiness'?" Looking up, she watched him expectantly.

"You go first."

"But, I asked the question," she complained, wishing to avoid answering for as long as possible, "Why do I've to go first?"

"'Cause." He shrugged. "'I've no answer." Then, he added, "You're the one with the fancy school and driver, you surely have lots to be happy about."

Taking offense in his words, Rory frowned, "Well, I'm not exactly happy to be here, so it's tough to answer something that involves the word 'happiness', while you on the other hand just won $1000." She mimicked his tone, "_Surely_ that makes you happy?"

"I didn't choose to enter the contest," he simply stated.

"What do you mean?"

"I wrote the story for an assignment and the teacher asked if he could submit it."

"It's a good thing he did."

"I guess." He shrugged again.

"Wait, are you seriously not happy about winning?" she asked, bemused. She'd be jumping with glee if her photos won at any contest. Plus, not to sound rude or anything, but judging by the state his clothes were in, he could benefit from a thousand dollars.

"I write for myself," he said. "I don't care what others think of it." When he finished the sentence, he leaned forward in the chair, decreasing the distance between the two.

A waft of his scent met Rory and her heart almost tripped over itself. "It's still an accomplishment," she tried for optimism to cover her nerves. "Even if you're not overjoyed, your parents must be really proud."

He pursed his lips as if musing over a tough question, "It's hard to tell, since they're dead."

Instantly, her heartbeat paused. "I- I'm so sorry." Undoubtedly, her face was heating up a hundred degrees at a time.

Silence, only crowded by the conversations in the air, met them. She had no idea what more to say.

"Five more minutes!" Julie's usual reminder came and for once Rory wished she could talk more, just to make up for this moment of absolute awkwardness.

Breaking the stillness, Logan snatched his worksheet from the nearby table and cleared his throat. He looked irritated, which she didn't blame him for since it mustn't be pleasant being forced to mention your dead parents. He spoke up, "So, happiness?"

"Uh." She watched him and an undeniable sense of sympathy rose in her. Though he didn't look up from the paper, but continued to hold it close to his body while a slight frown marred his features, he looked so vulnerable such that she felt embarrassed to be seeing him like this. She couldn't imagine what it was like to lose a parent, let alone two. Blankly, she answered whatever came to mind, "When I think of happiness, I think of a room full of people, admiring my work. I'd wanted to hold a photo exhibit since I was eight."

He scribbled on the paper.

Feeling timid, she said softly, "Your turn." With a pen gripped in her hand, she waited while studying the blank spots on the worksheet.

"When my mom and I would rush to the store, because I wanted cookies to go with the milk."

Her head snapped up, while the rest of her body froze. She was not expecting that answer. It was way too personal, too meaningful, making hers sound like that of a sixth grader's. To her horror, their eyes locked, his unflinching. Now, she _really_ didn't know what to say. Slowly, she moved to jot down the answer and, while she wrote, a sense of pain jolted her heart. She wondered how old he was when he lost his family. She wondered why God took them away.

❤ Happiness and Him ❤

For the rest of the session, they went back to talking in a circle. She'd held her breath when Ted read Logan's answer as if it was her own, while Julie just made cute noises like 'aw'. Gritting her teeth at the sound, she felt so annoyed that Julie was tainting Logan's memory of his mom with such meaningless responses. When the clock struck six, everyone stood up, practically all at once, to head out. For once not feeling like bolting for the door, Rory tucked the worksheet and pen into her backpack, doing so extremely slowly, because Logan was doing the same.

When the stationaries were safely put away and she had no other props to stall with, she turned to face him. "I'll see you next week?"

He flung his backpack on his shoulder, and zipped up his jacket. "Yup, are you going to the entrance? I'll walk with you."

A little ball of joy rolled in her stomach as she smiled, praying it didn't come off as idiotic. "Yeah, okay."

Together, they walked to the door. _He wants to walk with me… What does that mean? Did it mean anything? I _need_ to ask Chelsea. The list is just growing…_

"Logan?"

_Oh man._ Julie's call stopped them in their tracks, making them look over their shoulders simultaneously.

"Yeah?" Logan replied.

"Can we talk? It's about the contest. It'll be a few minutes."

Logan glanced at Rory, before replying. "Sure." He gave her an apologetic shrug. "Guess I'll see you next week, then."

Watching a sheepish smile graze his face, Rory couldn't help but notice the dimples above the corner of his lips. _Really? Dimples? _She bit her lip to contain the foolish gawk she surely had on. "Okay, see ya." With a quick wave, she blushed all the way to the door.

Turning into the hallway, she walked past numerous classroom doors without noticing any of her surroundings. All she did was replay the last two hours with Logan in her head, over and over again. Even though she hated hearing about his heartbreaking past, she wanted to know him better. Also, the way she felt around him was so strange, almost as if she developed an itsy, bitsy crush. Up until now, the only boy she'd had a crush on was from Chilton, who she had known since elementary school, but was too shy to ever let him know. When he moved away in sophomore year, she'd missed her chance. Compared to him, Logan was completely different - dark eyes, cute dimples and all.

Without realizing it, Rory started walking closer and closer to the hallway wall that were interrupted at regular intervals by teal-colored doors. As she passed an open door, a gush of wind hit her as a person stepped out and grabbed her by the backpack, pulling her into the classroom with a smooth, sharp tug. Before her brain could wrap around what was happening, like a well-planned kidnap scene, the person cupped her mouth and the door behind them shut with a loud bang.

Yelling into the cold hand, Rory struggled against the body wrapped behind her. _What's happening? Who? What? Why?_ Judging from the thin fingers and legs against hers, the body felt like a female's.

"_Stop squirming!_" A sharp, girl voice shrieked and the hand left Rory's mouth.

In her extremely confused and panicked state, she spun around, her heart pounding. "What in the worl-?!"

Her words caught in her throat as she blinked at the face of a girl with translucent skin, heavily lined eyes and lashes so long that they seemed to all point and sneer. It took several seconds for Rory to place the face.

Finally, recognition set in, and the name pushed past her throat.

"Lindsey?!"

* * *

**Thanks for reading!**

What did you think of the characters and what happened in this chapter? Did you like the Rory and Logan interaction and bits of info abt them you learned? Also, what do you think Lindsey wants with Rory? Please let me know! :)

Thanks for the reviews, favorites and follows!


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